Dante

I'll check that next time. Thanks.

I'm not so sure about that. I've always thought it was -1 Mag protection. Mids seems to agree. Still, I can't find anything written down to back that up.

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I don't think my idea is too powerful. Under the current system you could achieve a mez resistance of 14, under mine, the maximum would be 7. the big gane is the damage/resistance buff you would now be getting from controllers.

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I would have thought the best you could get under the current system was 7 with 7 Controllers/Doms on the team?

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1) Raise the damage cap (from 400% to 500%). Brutes have a low base damage but are expected to boost that to a high level with fury and buffs. To allow that they have a very high damage cap. Keldians are also expected to boost low base damage with their inherent, but are limited by a low damage cap.

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Yes please.

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2) Change the way mez protection works. Currently it is too binary. You either have the right number of controllers on your team, or you are dependent on break frees. Whilst this works ok, being mezzed is one of the things a lot of players find unfun and frustrating. My suggestion is this: controllers just give the regular damage/resistance bonus for a defensive AT (and Dominators, the bonus for an offensive AT). Keldians get +1 mag mez protection for every teammate in range, of any AT.

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Potentially too powerful. I'd be happier if they simply doubled the magnitude so one Controller/Dominator gives +2 Mag, 2 gives +4 etc.

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3) Thermal/Penumbral Shield: add resistance to slow. Quantum/Twighlight Shield: add resistance to teleport. These shields are underutilised at the moment, and it would be nice if keldians had some resistances that where not common to all defence sets.

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Interesting idea. I wouldn't say no but I doubt it'd make me take them.

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4) Nova Form: Having your form detoggled by any old mezzer (or having to keep permanently break freed whenever fighting mobs with even low chance of mez) is unfun. I propose that Nova gains mag 2 protection from Sleep, Stun and Hold.

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Or have the Mez protection from human form carry over into Nova but that's probably not possible due to how Cosmic Balance/Dark Sustinance works. So, yeah, I like this.

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5) Dwarf Form: the ability of a dwarf to tank is limited by their ability to hold aggro. I propose that a taunt component be added to all dwarf attacks (like brutes).

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Absolutely! We get almost tank resistances, a taunt and a similar scale of attack. If on a team without a Tank, Dwarf form should be a viable (although maybe not quite as good) alternative. Definitely agree with this one.

Standing from his vantage point, Revenant Star dusted himself down. He was fairly angry. Already he could see news trucks arriving, turning their cycloptic eyes on the remaining heroes. He already suspected what the news would report: Poison Gas Cloud stopped by Heroes. No-one would give much thought to what would have happened if it had gone off at ground zero.

He teleported himself away, rueing his decision to take up a hero license and making a mental note that the only thing he’d bring to the next fight would be popcorn.

Sat across from the warzone, Revenant Star sat atop a building watching the emergency services as they began to crowd into the area.

“Peacebringers,” he muttered darkly, “think they own the [censored] universe.”

He shook his head and watched the show. He made a note not to stay too long. Sooner or later someone would want to start pointing fingers of accusation and he didn't want to be there when they did. It was rare that Warshades ever got the benefit of the doubt.

Floating away from the battleground in Hulmanim form, Revenant Star watched the poison cloud as it descended on the Freaks. He felt a twinge of pity for them as the metal corroded from their bodies.

"What kind of div thows an atmospheric bomb like a grenade?" he muttered to himself. Military tactics had sure changed in Paragon. Still, as a weapon, it was surprisingly effective, he admitted. He wondered which hero threw it and whether they'd be repremanded for being too extreme.

Revenant Star swore loudly as he fell, watching the canister roll into the centre of the crowd, sparks flying from him. The blast left him stunned but the blade descending towards him soon brought him round to reality. He scrambled to his feet and ran towards the canister. Scooping it up, he thrust it into the arms of the Freak chasing him.

"Here, have a gift!" he said before teleporting the shocked Freak fifty feet up into the sky before porting himself out of the battlezone.

Revenant Star was busy. Dodging the Freak's clumsy attacks, he'd barely had time to register the building's collapse. The first moment of panic had come when he'd seen the Void Slayer, worrying that it might have even been one he'd trained himself or one that had pursued him here from Striga prior to his 'execution'. The second moment had come when he'd seen the Peacebringer fall. He wasn't used to seeing them as allies but even he felt a tinge of anger when the seemingly fatal blow had come. He'd been the far side of the battleground, embroiled in a fight with one of the Tanks, unable to break away. By the time the Tank was kissing the earth, it was too late.

And then the rubble had exploded. He watched the explosion, slightly surprised. "Now there's something you don't see every day..." he muttered. And then three Freaks had hit him with electrical blasts, pulling his attention back to the fight.

Lord Erebus let a smile creep over his face. But other than that, he did not move.

"Now Dr Oswald," he began, "This is a most pleasant surprise. And just as I thought you were getting boring."
He ran his finger around the top of the wine glass that had remained untouched.

"I will leave your ship just as I will permit you to leave the league if you so wish. But blackmail? I think perhaps you overestimate your control over both us and this situation. Now tell your toy soldiers to put down their guns before they hurt themselves. And as for killing you? Now now, I only take souls when I'm hungry and at the moment I am quite replete. But even you can't live forever Oswald."

This does look rather spiffing. I feel the altisis creeping already, tempting me to roll a Broadsword Scrapper now...

On the other hand, it would make an awesome temp power for any Kheldian that completes the ITF.

The only reference I can dig out is one to Paragon City University having a football team. One of the first heroes to emerge in the 1950's, Vambrace aka Brandon Warfield, played as their star quarterback IIRC. Other than that I can't find any other reference so I don't think there's anything to prevent you from creating one. Most cities have some form of team.

Revenant Star looked out from the ruining window. Oh that was a Peacebringer alright and clearly one that had a few more tricks up her sleeve than he’d normally give one credit for. He had a desire to leave, the memory of killing his first one flashing unbidden into his mind. He shoved it back firmly. That was then, this is now. Things are different. And besides, the hosts here were so much cuter than the last place.

Several Freaks were beginning to stand, clearly relying on their backups. He noticed that several other heroes had entered the fray although the Freaks were putting up a good defence. The Freaks were a distraction he considered, something that the other heroes could deal with. He had bigger fish to fry. And then a stray circular saw blade whizzed through the air, lodging itself into the wall next to his head. Seeing red, he stepped into the battle, grabbing the nearest Freak and sticking hefty punch to the punk’s gut. As he toppled over, Adam placed his hand on the Freak’s chest and took a good long drink of the anarchist’s life-force. Pushing him off, he punched the next Freak in the face, porting to one side as the counterstrike came, only for it to land on another punk with chainsaws for arms. Revenant teleported behind him and kicked him into his friend, dissipating as one of the flying Freaks attempted to zap him with electricity. His eyes and fists glowed with the dark Nictus energy and he tried to suppress the grin as he started pulling energy from his opponents. As much as he hated to admit it, this little riot was fun.

Porting up into the sky next to the flying Freak that had tried to shoot him, Adam grabbed him, their combined weight sending them spiralling to the ground.

"Stop shooting that s**t at me!" he growled to the panicked punk. As they hit the ground, colliding neatly with a Tank that had only just started to get back up, there was a flash of black light and the Ruktur charged out of the mess, roaring as it tore into the next set of foes. Had the Freaks of been paying attention, they might even have heard it laugh as it bore down on them.

A part of Revenant Star panicked, the part that used to be Adam Corfield. But the other part, the cold, dark part that was fuelled by revenge knew exactly what it was doing. Dropping back into human, he ported the other side of where the girl was ready to slash at him, activating his shield moments before he impacted with the window, still carried along by the momentum of his fall. The glass shattered and he hit the floor, rolling to cushion the blow. Whatever the shield failed to protect, the material of his jacket and body armour absorbed. He came to a halt by hitting one of the concrete pillars, winding him.

After a couple of seconds, he looked up, glad to see that most of the Freaks were on the outside of the building. He had a good mind to leave the girl to it. Nobody was meant to use that term to describe him. At least not anymore. He pulled himself to his feet, dusting white chalk from his body.

"That's what you get for showing off, trying to impress girls you idiot," he muttered to himself.

It was the screaming of the falling Freak that had alerted him. Turning to bash another foe over the head, the yelling anarchist seemed to stop short, caught by someone before he’d hit. Revenant Star breathed a sigh of relief only for his Kheldian senses to tingle. That aura, he thought, that’s got to be a Pe…

It was at that point the Freak in front of him decided to apply a nasty uppercut to the Ruktur’s neural plexus. Stunned, the forced energy snapped back into its natural shape revealing a masked and cowled man in jeans and a leather jacket as he lay sprawled on the floor. Beneath the jacket though was body armour of distinctly Council design. He looked up at the circle of Freaks as they prepared to stomp.

“Aw crud,” he muttered before teleporting himself twenty feet straight up in the air. He was able to glimpse briefly at the two women, giving them a wink and a hasty “Thanks girls!” before gravity took hold. As he fell, he shifted form again, turning his fall into a graceful arc over the tops of the Freaks, strafing them with concentrated energy. He was feeling fairly pleased with himself until he realised that his trajectory had him heading straight for the girl with the claws at breakneck speed.

Still pounding away at the mass of Freaks, Revenant Star struggled to contain a giggle as one of them spun on its heel and smacked his friend in the face. Clearly they weren’t alone but right now the hordes of blade wielding anarchists was occupying his attention. He’d seen psychics do the same sort of thing to people in the past but it was made more funny when your foes had hammers on the end of their arms.

Sending the nearest one through a window with a swipe of his arm, he tried not to acknowledge the stray thought that wandered through his mind, that they’d make a good army if only they could be controlled. ‘She’ tended to think like that a lot and as their minds drew closer together it was becoming increasingly hard to separate them.

Distracted, he turned to see that he’d lost control of the situation. Some of the Freaks were peeling off, levitating skywards. Dammit, he thought as he struggled to look up past his carapace. It was then that a hammer bludgeoned his face, staggering him. He recovered and pushed headlong into the Tank as it aimed for another swing. He could only hope that whoever else was present had those flyers covered.

Across the street, a blur sped by only to come to a halt once it spotted the outpouring of Freaks. Had anyone peered closely at the small area of distorted space five and a half meters off of the ground, they might have seen two glowing eyes roll themselves in a tired manner.

“Great, more Metal-heads,” muttered a male voice. He might have passed by had it not have been for the girl stood in the middle of the crowd, slicing away at her assailants. Maybe it was going to be his lucky day after all.

Shifting form as he teleported, Revenant Star materialised in the middle of the mob, clobbering one of the Tanks around the head with his claw. He grunted a hello to the girl as he smashed one of the Freaks into the ground. He hated talking while shapeshifted. The mandibles of the Ruktur mangled the English language as if he was talking with a mouthful of rocks while his other form just made him worry that he was dribbling while speaking. Far better to let his actions speak for him.

A Freak leapt on his back and tried to cut through his carapace with his chainsaw. Revenant dissipated his essence briefly, allowing the Freak to drop through the mass of glowing energy to land hard on the ground. He reformed and applied his clawed foot to the Freak’s back, stomping his assailant into submission. Yes, action felt far better.

I would go for Rad, Sonic or Ice. However I'm not a big PvPer but here's my thoughts:

I'm currently levelling a Kin/Ice and the synergy is nice. Between Siphon Speed and the Ice attacks, you can do some really nice -speed.

Sonic is obvious due to the -res, the sleep and ranged stun but you've covered that.

I've never tried Rad but IIRC, Rad does -Def which, Kinetics would benefit from due to having a few powers that need to land to take effect. I do know someone who is Kin/Rad and he's wildly effective with it.

Dark is an odd one but don't rule it out. It's more of a utility set and can reduce your return fire with its -acc. Kinetics can garner a lot of attention I've found! TT will keep all the mobs together for your debuffs and a well slotted (at least 5) Dark Pit can cut out a lot of aggro. However, as you say, the damage is a bit pants but Siphon Speed would let you spam a lot (+yummy -acc as well).

Hope that helps.

"The virus is simple yet effective," he continued. "It is airborne and can be caught by merely being in the same room as an infected person. Once infected, a person will begin to exhibit symptoms not unlike the common cold. They will feel drowsy and lethargic and will probably assume that what they have caught is another cold. That is until their skin begins to drop off of course."

He allowed himself a grim smile. "Their skin will slowly dissolve, becoming translucent and flaky which will then peel from their bodies. They will panic of course but by then it will be too late. They will worry about whether they have infected their families and friends which they will have by that point. What tiredness they had felt before will be magnified tenfold until they are unable to move. The virus is not fatal, it is not intended to be. But it will cause panic, mayhem and provide the ideal situation for martial law to be declared. The virus has resisted all attempts to cure it or to discover any of its weaknesses however, I do hold the cure which I will be only too pleased to hand out to those under my care and those that we would want to preserve."

“There is much to talk about indeed,” spoke Lord Erebus as he entered the room. “The Oblivion Virus is primed and ready to be deployed in a number of locations by my agents. One canister has been hidden in the offices of the National Health Agency. Once they are exposed, I expect a quarantine to be declared almost immediately, therefore closing the islands to unwanted guests.”

Massacre Graffiti Baffles Police

Police at the scene of last night’s massacre in Port Oakes confessed bafflement regarding graffiti that had been spray painted over the front of the building. The incident in which over 70 Wyvern troops were slaughtered has shocked a number of officials in the police who have stated that despite the regular violence that they encounter in the area, this recent crime seems excessively brutal.

Senior Arachnos officers have expressed dismay at the incident but stated, “If heroes wish to send covert armies into the Isles, we cannot be responsible for anything that may happen to them.”

The graffiti, spray painted in bold red letters over three metres high simply reads ‘The Cadre’. Police have stated that this is the first that they have heard of what could be a new gang setting up in the area. Wanted mutant rights activist, Third Degree Byrne was seen leaving the area shortly after the incident, a sign that perhaps he is seeking to re-establish his gang of terrorists, Scorched Earth. Police have warned citizens to treat him as armed and extremely dangerous.

Third Degree Byrne
Zig Courtyard – Three Minutes to Cadre Breakout

Time was short for Byrne. Ten minutes passed quickly, especially in a maze made more confusing by frenzied battles and fallen concrete. The rest of the Cadre had scattered, leaving Byrne to do his best to buy then some time before the flyer took off. He didn’t trust the spiders but as they were the method of their extraction, he had no choice but to go with them. For now at least.

He’d tried to stay outside, letting the cool night air clear the fog in his lungs caused by the airborne sedative that had filled his cell. Finally able to feel the full stretch of his emotions at last, he found himself angry for being caged like an animal. Several Longbow patrols, already beaten from fighting with escaping prisoners had borne his rage, their scattered numbers running before his burning fury. However it was on his way to the flyer that he spotted an opportunity to vent against a more worthy target.

On one of the wider platforms surrounding the prison, a helicopter hovered with a ladder unfurled, allowing people to clamber up it. Still limping slightly, the grey-suited figure of Warden Trent hobbled his way to the ladder and began to climb, nervously watching for any unseen snipers. When he noticed the burning man glaring at him from the courtyard, he almost fell off the ladder before turning back and climbing at twice the rate he had before.

Byrne said nothing. He didn’t need to. Running to one of the fallen walls, he grasped one of the steel beams that re-enforced the wall and pulled. Shattered concrete fell away from the beam as he hefted it as an improvised javelin, aiming at the helicopter as it began to drift away from the prison that had now become a war zone. Hurling the pole with all his might, he saw it glance off of one of the helicopter’s struts, sending the machine into a slow spin towards the ground. Byrne cursed under his breath as he saw the chopper fall, a muffled crunch signalling its rough landing somewhere on the other side of the wall. It was unlikely that the landing would have killed the accursed Warden but it might of gained him a few injuries at least. He was about to leap the wall when he heard the whine of the Flyer’s repulsion engines behind him. There was no time, he thought, calming the rage that wanted nothing but to burn and destroy. He spat on the floor and turned away before his ride left without him. Next time, he promised himself, next time.


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Dante Carver and Mystic's Dream
Prison Administration Block – Seven minutes to Cadre Breakout

Elsewhere within the prison, away from the fighting, a number of prisoners were attempting to break into a locked office within which a number of prison guards had holed up, trying to fend off the inmates who were hungry for revenge.

“Open up screws!” demanded one, smashing at the door with a chair. “It’s payback time and you owe us!”

He smiled with glee as shouting from the other side indicated the panic the guards were going through as the door began to break down. It was then that he noticed how dark it had become. The lights flickered out and even the ambient lighting seemed to descend into pitch black.

“What the hell’s going on?” he demanded, unable to see three inches in front of him.

“Is that dark enough for you?” asked a commanding male voice from somewhere in the darkness.

“Plenty thanks pops,” came the reply from a younger, female voice before all that could be heard was the crackling of electricity. The inmate, abandoning his attempts to break through the door, looked to flee, somewhere, anywhere where he could find light. Around him he heard the screams of his fellow prisoners as searing electricity arced around him, heard but unseen in the magical darkness. Unable to see, he stumbled over a fallen object before the lightning caught him, flaring in his mind before unconsciousness took him.

The guards tentatively opened the door to the barricaded room, revealing an older gentleman in a black suit stood next to a young girl in a revealing white costume. The man took a step forward.

“The miscreants are incapacitated,” he stated, “you should find them easier to restrain now.” With that, he turned and walked off, taking the hand of the girl who seemed to have difficulty seeing. The guards stepped out into the well lit corridor to see half a dozen inmates in various states of unconscious repose. They looked after the couple as they left, speechless.

The girl looked over her shoulder and smiled at the stunned guards. “You’re welcome!” she called back to them and then they were gone.

When I first started, I found blinds rude. These days it depends on what mood I’m in or what level I’m at. One of my biggest motivators for getting my toons to the late 20s is that by then most team leaders don’t blind and at least have some concept of what a team can handle in terms of difficulty. How many times have I accepted a blind only to find myself on a naff level 10 team with the difficulty at Invincible because it’s ‘uber XP’? Too many, and when you like to play support ATs like me, knowing what you’re facing is a major factor. If I’m below level 20 though, blinds are inevitable.

That said, sometimes I like to say yes. Teams can be amazing sometimes and there are times when I say yes because I fancy the challenge of the unknown.

Still, if you do get blinded and accept, I recommend checking out the mission description and difficulty level in the Mission window (need to be in the same zone though). That way, even if they haven’t told you what you’re facing, you can get some idea and if it looks dumb, quit.

((***Nastiness Ahead***))


Third Degree

Ziggursky Penitentiary Canteen - Now

Julius Byrne walked amongst the tables in the packed canteen. He was half smiling, wondering exactly where to begin. The lawyer’s words hung in his head as he strode amongst his fellow prisoners. If he stood any chance of being rescued from the prison, he had to find a way to end up in D Wing. D Wing was only for the most dangerous prisoners though and due to his exemplary behaviour since being incarcerated here, it was highly unlikely that he’d get thrown in there for anything other than trying to take the Warden’s head off. The idea appealed to him but it stunk of failure. There was no way he could engineer a meeting that would enable him to do that, the Warden always kept himself well protected. He’d have to start small and work his way up.

As he passed by the huge mechanised AEDs* that stood watching over the canteen, he spotted the diminutive figure of The Ferret, sat once again at a table with the comedian from last time opposite him. Byrne felt no sympathy for the short guy. If he was so stupid to allow himself to be the victim twice in a row, then there was nothing he could do to help him. It did however, give him an opening.

Being careful to make sure that the guards were distracted, he idly altered his course and came to stand behind where the comedian sat as he liberally helped himself to The Ferret’s tray. He was just about to make a grab for another forkful of mashed potato when he became aware of Julius looming over him. In a split second, Byrne grabbed the back of the comedian’s head and smashed it forcefully into the table. Food and cutlery was sent everywhere to the sound of splintering bone and dental work. He raised his victim’s head up briefly, allowing the gout of blood from his mouth to spill down his face before smashing his head back down into the table again.

‘Revocation of privileges’ thought Byrne as he noticed two of the guards on the overhead gantry turn their weapons on him. Two darts containing tranquilisers sped from the guns, only to collide with the comedian who Byrne had deftly turned into a human shield. Seeing the guards change ammo, he tossed the stunned body at them, knocking them clean off the gantry and into the diners below where they were promptly stamped upon by his fellow inmates.

‘Two weeks in solitary’ he estimated as he saw three guards run at him from the corner of his eye. Noticing that their weapons were only half drawn he braced. Sure enough, two of them jumped on him, trying to bring him down. The third wrestled with a pair of manacles, attempting to fix them to his arms. Idiots, thought Byrne, releasing his mental control on his anger. His body erupted in a gout of flame, scorching the guards as they tried to stop him. They fell back screaming as the flames engulfed them. The canteen by now was a riot. Various prisoners, seeing their opportunity, rose up and began assaulting the guards and staff around the room. Others took it as a chance to even the score with other prisoners, leaping across the room to belt each other with makeshift weapons. Alarms were ringing by now, guards rushing into the room, followed by the hovering police drones, waiting to teleport miscreants into cells filled with sedative gas. As Byrne upped his estimate to a month, he saw one of the drones closing on him. Grabbing one of the burning guards, he tossed him casually at the drone. Although the drone was able to fire, teleporting the flaming guard to the awaiting cell, it wasn’t before he collided with the expensive machine, sending it skittering to the floor where it was crushed under stampeding feet. He added a furious beating from the guards for that one.

Still, it wasn’t enough. He browsed the crowd and only just avoided the massive stun blast that was aimed at him by the AED as it stomped through the room, its concussion cannons laying waste to the rioting prisoners. The force of the guns scattered bodies to the four winds, knocking them senseless as it did so. The drone was only semi-sentient but clearly it was being instructed to target him as the perceived ringleader. It’s so nice to be wanted, he thought to himself. Ducking low, he wrenched the dining table from where it was affixed to the floor, tearing it from its support. Bracing it like a Spartan shield, he felt another blast impact with the sheet metal, blowing objects and people aside where it ricocheted off of the table. Byrne was still pushed back a few feet by the impact, but finding his footing, he marched forwards, destined towards the hulking machine.

The machine fired again, repelling him slightly and causing both guards and prisoners to either side of him to go flying due to the waves of force as they spilled off of his makeshift shield. When the blast was over, he charged, leaving charred footprints behind him as the rage took over. The AED fired twice again but there was no stopping Byrne now. Shockwaves from the stun blasts repelled everything around him, the burning man rushing towards his target, yelling his defiance. As he closed, he leapt, casting the table aside as he jumped forcefully into the giant machine. His impact caused the AED to stumble then topple over backwards, Byrne riding the device down. As it crashed into the floor, he began to pound on the machine, tearing massive rents in its armour. Around him, beyond the fury that enveloped him, he was aware of the riot being quelled by an influx of guards. It wouldn’t be long now, time to go out on a high.

Gripping the machine’s false head, he pulled. Plastic and metal protested in ugly screams as slowly it gave way, Byrne ripping the head from the body. The machine went still and Byrne raised the head high over his head like a trophy, roaring his victory to an appreciative crowd. The guards were close now, he could sense them readying their guns, the rest of the canteen quelled and almost under control.

“Fight for your freedom!” he yelled, pulling some nonsense from a speech he’d given years ago. The crowd still roared as the first stun blast hit him. He stumbled slightly, still surprised at how powerful it was. As the second hit him, he feigned losing his footing. The third he allowed himself to go limp, toppling off of the titan to hit the ground with a crash. As a forth struck him for good measure, he relaxed his breathing, allowing his mental controls to slip back into place. The flames around him sputtered then died as he tried to keep a grip on consciousness. He felt the guards haul him upright, one of them laying in a cheeky blow to his face, causing his lip to split. He remained in control though, curious as to why they were not dragging him off to D Wing. It was when he raised his head and saw a suited figure hobbling towards him with an obvious limp. The Warden’s discomfort managed to raise a smile on his defiant face, clearly someone else disagreed with his way of running the prison.

“I knew I would get to you Byrne,” said Warden Trent, smiling. “And I said that when you did, I would be there to gloat. You won’t be seeing this part of the prison for... ooh... six months at least now. That long in solitary should humble you slightly. Aaah! The smell of victory is so sweet!”

Byrne mentally cursed, still not good enough. He stiffened himself, glaring at Trent as he savoured the moment. “Warden, answer me a question,” he said.

Trent limped over to where Byrne was restrained by several guards. He flashed his winning smile at him. “Yes... prisoner?”

“Tell me,” began Byrne, “how exactly would you know what victory smells like?” With that, he lurched forward, bringing his forehead crashing down onto the bridge of the Warden’s nose. Bone and cartilage shattered in an explosion of blood, breaking his nose in several places. Trent staggered backwards, a river of blood pouring from his ruined nose, screaming. The guards began to pound on Byrne, but try as they might, they couldn’t get him to stop smiling.

“D Wing!” was all that could be heard of the Warden from where he gripped his bloody face. The guards complied, hauling Byrne’s battered body off towards the secure holding cells. As he was being led out, he felt compelled to savour the moment one last time.

“Hey guys!” he yelled to the cowed prisoners who had been watching the scene. “The Warden’s got no nose! How does he smell!?”

“Terrible!” came the cliché reply followed by howls of laughter and cheering as the guards struggled to regain control. And with those sounds of joy ringing in his ears, Byrne finally relinquished control and allowed his mind to slip into the oblivion of unconsciousness.


((*AED = Automated Enforcement Drone))

Erebus folded his hands, noting that once again Hatesman had only saved himself due to the use of advanced technology. What would he be without that machine, he wondered to himself.

"The Oblivion virus is a rapidly spreading, virulent disease that manifests itself as leprosy and fever," he stated. "Once introduced to a community, it causes sores, lesions and rotting of the flesh. A village infected with it for a week is an unpleasant sight to behold. However, it is not fatal, but then that's not its intent. It is a panic device, used to crush spirit and leave communities desperate for a cure, willing to follow anyone who can allieviate the symptoms. I, of course, hold the only known cure, a simple 'laying on of hands' is normally enough to gain the trust of simpletons." He looked at his companions, hoping that he hadn't disclosed too much.

"Of course, the beauty of it is that the virus itself has defied all medical enquiry. In fact, most hospitals and laboratories have failed spectacularly to find the viral agent, a slieght of hand I'm most proud of. If we are seeking to quarantine the island and make sure that no trespassers come snooping, it is a perfect distraction."

He made no mention of the fact that curing the civillians would ensure their trust of him even further, that much was obvious. Why kidnap people to devour when they could come willingly to him? He smiled his reptillian smile and though about the many souls on this island and what they all might taste like.